


Love of Puyo Puyo

by kibasniper



Category: Puyo Puyo (Video Games)
Genre: Challenge Response, F/F, Ficlet Collection, Gen, LGBTQ Themes, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:15:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24602980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kibasniper/pseuds/kibasniper
Summary: Stories written for Puyo Puyo Pals' Puyo Pride Contest 2020.
Relationships: Ally/Arle Nadja, Oshare Bones & Rafisol (Puyo Puyo), Ringo Andou & Maguro Sasaki, Tee & Ecolo (Puyo Puyo)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32





	1. Blooming for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme 1: Flowers  
> Pairing: Arle/Ally.

“Great Hero, do you know about the language of flowers?” Ally asks, her eyes twinkling.

Arle tilts her head, her mouth a small ‘o.’ She taps her chin and raises her gaze to the pure blue sky with only a few wispy white clouds passing overhead. She thinks back to her time in magic school and recalls which flowers would make potions for mana or energy. Her kindergarten teacher, who smelled of vanilla perfume and coffee, had told her that there was a language of flowers, but much to her embarrassment, her cheeks becoming shades of bubblegum pink, she could not remember what knowledge had been imparted upon her.

“Oh, man, I...sort of know,” she says, her mouth twitching upwards, and she scratches her neck.

Ally laces her fingers together, kicking a few stones off the paved path on their way to Grimp. She peers at the thick trees and smells honeysuckle and pine wafting in the breeze. Closing her eyes, she keeps her pace with Arle and replies, “Then, I hope you’ll let me indulge you for a moment.”

“You don’t have to ask, Ally. Tell me anything you want. I’ll always listen.” Arle cups her shoulder and smiles. She gently squeezes, the material of Ally’s tunic soft under her calloused fingers.

Her smile presses into her cheeks. She twirls a lock of deep orange hair as she speaks. “Roses, from what I’ve learned, have quite a few meanings. It depends on their color.” She skips ahead and pivots, stopping in front of Arle. She rocks from side to side, her enthusiasm infectious as Arle’s grin stretches. “For example, dark pink means gratitude. They’re the kind you would give to a dear friend who has done much for you.”

Ally touches her pendant. Pink swirls accumulate between the spaces of her fingers, and she flexes them out, her phalanges tensing. She quickly curls them in, but much to Arle’s bewilderment, she does not form a fist.

Instead, as if Ally was a magician performing a magic trick, she holds a dark pink rose. The petals glimmer under the sun, the bulb unfurled, deep green stem thornless. She steps forward and clips it behind Arle’s ear, the heroine letting her mouth fall open an inch as the rich floral aroma floats around them.

“Peach roses symbolizes appreciation, for all that I feel towards everything you endured for me,” Ally says, and she claps her hands together.

Pulling her palms away after her pendant glows, she catches a peach rose popping out of thin air. Its color is so ripe like the fruit that shares its name that Arle feels the impulse to take a bite out of it. Ally slips it behind Arle’s other ear and gently strokes the side of her freckled, strong face, Arle’s face beginning to burn and her blood warm her skin.

“And last, but certainly not least, there is the red rose,” Ally whispers, her voice carried by the breeze. She pinches her fingers and presses her knuckles together. She sets them over her pendant and closes her eyes, her lashes long without mascara. Light pulses from the Luwa Pendant, hints of violet and snow white flashing and flickering, leaving Arle transfixed and her heart thundering behind her chest plate.

Ally outstretches her hands as soon as the light dies down. Scarlet petals twist and flutter around her hands before coming together as if pulled by gravity. Ally takes a breath as the petals form the full bulb of a red rose, stemless much to Arle’s curious confusion. Ally raises her head and lets the flower fall in her hand, which shakes ever so slightly. She holds it to her chest right over her heart, taking Arle’s breath away as heat paints her cheeks a similar hue.

“Do you understand what a red rose can mean?” Ally asks, her voice refusing to waver, confidence etched in every word.

The answer is as clear as the sky above them. It is presented in a way that the answer is obvious, as if Ally is literally handing her the answer. In a way, she is much to Arle’s relief. Vocalizing her feelings had never been her strong suit, preferring to use actions to express herself compared to Ally’s words and grand, mystifying gestures.

“Could it mean a hotblooded Puyo battle?” Arle asks, giggling as Ally gasps and slumps her shoulders.

“I-I think you’re aware that a red rose does not mean that,” she retorts, pouting and furrowing her brows.

Arle cups her hands and inclines her head. She asks for the rose when Ally merely gazes at her. Ally’s vigor swiftly rejuvenates, her eyes sparkling once again, and she places the rose in her palms, her fingertips trailing on the hardened spots of her digits. Arle traces the full petals, their softness unparalleled to anything she had felt before; not even Ally’s tunic could compare.

“It’s love, right?” Arle asks despite knowing the answer. She leans forward, locking eyes with the taller girl. “Let’s fall in love, right?”

Ally sucks in a breath and holds it, her smile frozen. Her mask falls, slipping off too quickly to reveal her true delight. Arle wishes her eyes would not turn misty even if Ally’s eyes well up with tears, their feelings mutual as Arle sets the rose above Ally’s pendant, securing it in place with a button on Ally’s long-sleeved shirt.

They giggle, no longer needing words. Ally slips her hand into Arle’s, her laughter uncontainable. Arle spins her around, the aroma of the roses like a sweet perfume, and she imagines they are in a field of multicolored flowers, her heart like the roses, full and in bloom.


	2. The Perfect Fit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme 2: Joy  
> Relationship: Ringo & Maguro being trans and feeling comfortable in how they present in their school uniforms.

The skirt fit like silk. It neatly hugged her hips and fell down right above her knees. The color was a few shades darker than her scarlet hair, which appealed to her sense of style. It was like the color of a jonared apple, one of her favorites to use in the pies she baked for the county fair.

Ringo’s deep gray blazer was also sleek. It bordered on black; a keen eye would notice the difference. It was complemented by the light purple tie that hung between her white collar. Running her fingers through it, she massaged the cotton material, feeling that it was softer than any accessory that she owned.

Her middle school uniform had been something she dreaded. A little voice in the back of her head had teased her that it would make her appear gangly with too long toothpick limbs. She had tried ignoring it, even seeking out Risukuma for a potion to quell her nagging fears, but the day had arrived when her uniform came in the mail, finally silencing her internal turmoil for good as soon as she saw herself.

She decided that she looked good. The way it fit her was perfectly comfortable. The buttons were in place. She didn’t feel any hint of tightness or pinching on her skin. Breathable fabric, perfect measurements, pleasing colors all the way down to how her socks matched her blazer, Ringo felt whole, her anxiety washing away with calm delight.

“Hey, lookin’ good, Ringo, ★” chirped a voice from the doorway.

Ringo rolled her eyes and turned away from her bathroom mirror. There was Maguro leaning into the wooden doorframe, his toothy grin pressing into his cheeks. Like Ringo, he wore his new middle school uniform. The color was the same as hers, though it seemed the slightest bit too large. Around his elbows, the sleeves wrinkled. With his hands stuffed into his pockets, Ringo was certain that his sleeves would have fallen towards his knuckles, and he would need them hemmed, something she would gladly do for him without asking.

“I’m hypothesizing Mom and Dad let you in and you decided to stay quiet, huh?” she asked, pressing her back into the sink and gripping the countertop.

“You bet’cha! ★” Maguro hooked his thumbs at himself. “Your dad said, ‘Maguro, you look like a million bucks in that uniform. Go on up and say hi to Ringo, why don’t you?’ ★” He chuckled and gripped his hips. “Classic Mr. Andou. Never gets old with that guy.”

Ringo snickered. “Yeah, that sounds like him alright.” She pivoted on her heels and stared at herself in the mirror. She smoothed down her sleeves, remarking, “I haven’t shown my parents my uniform yet. I just thought it’d be better to give it a testrun and disprove my internal theorizing.”

“Oh? And what kind of ‘internal theorizing’ are you talking about? ★” Maguro asked, wrapping his arms behind his head, assuming his classically cool pose.

She tapped her temple and tilted her head, her long ringlets matching her movements. “A silly conundrum had been wrapped around my brain up until I dressed myself,” she said, closing her eyes, her lips spreading into a smile. She twisted around and clapped her hands together, a skip to her step as she kicked up her leg behind her. “But no ne~ed to wor~ry! The pleasing co~lors, the perfect le~ngth, it all a~dds up to a well-fitted u~ni~form!”

She punctuated each note with a laugh. It echoed in her bathroom, her triumph knowing no bounds while it traveled throughout the Andou home. If she had eyes on the walls where her parents stood in the kitchen and cared for their apples, she would have seen their smiles and fond glances at each other, delighted that their daughter accepted herself just as they had.

Maguro grinned, the corner of his mouth pressing upwards in a lopsided grin. Throwing his arms out, he let Ringo collapse into him, squeezing him so tightly that his spine could have cracked. He patted her back, closing his eyes and basking in her warmth, their bliss mutual with nothing to deter their happiness as they presented the way they chose.


	3. How to Adore Someone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme 3: Love  
> Relationship: Rafisol and Oshare Bones chat over tea, the former learning more about his deceased lover and what they shared.

As Rafisol was told, love was everywhere. It could be found in the smallest of creatures. In her quest to find love, she had seen many birds nestling together in roosts they had made together, collecting the finest sticks and twigs to impress their partner. It had seemed redundant to repeat such a process, but in their world, the birds seemed enamored with even the simplest gestures.

But love seemed to elude her. Despite her studies and Ally’s constant proclamations, it did not come naturally to her. Although she had changed, Rafisol felt like her emotions were guarded, like a wall had been built between her heart and others. She could not simply remove it brick by brick, knowing her lack of love was instilled within her the moment she came into existence within the Luwa Pendant, but her resolve to understand the notion propelled her to seek him out when he set up shop on Pwurp Island.

Oshare poured her green tea with a deft hand. He hummed a tone that seemed slow to her, harmonious only to himself when his voice unevenly pitched. She remained neutral, keeping her expression blank as he set aside the pitcher on his oak desk. As he smoothed down the few wrinkles in his garishly colorful suit, Rafisol glanced around his store, the array of clothing equally bright and fashionable for the denizens of Primp Town while the ones who visited Pwurp were certain to squint at the array of popping, flamboyant colors.

“Now, dear,” he began as he sat across from her, “you’ve come to the right skeleton to talk about love.”

“I’ve heard you have much experience with the subject,” she said, but he gasped and waved his hand at her.

“Calling it a ‘subject’ makes it sound like Accord is going to give you a pop quiz! And I know you aren’t her student, so there’s no need to speak of it like that,” he countered, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. He slipped his phalange through the porcelain handle of his teacup, the tea simmering inside. Giving it a little shake, he took a generous sip, the liquid seering past his gumless, lipless mouth and down his throat. Sighing, he set the cup back on its coaster while Rafisol savored the warm, earthy taste of her tea, closing her eyes to truly enjoy it.

Sighing quietly, Rafisol cupped her drink with both hands. It warmed her palms but did nothing for her. She had come to Oshare to learn about love, and he had reprimanded her before they could delve into their conversation. It left a sour taste in her mouth that counteracted the tea, and she crossed her ankles, rubbing her heel against the top of her boot, waiting for Oshare to speak.

He met her gaze and huffed. Fiddling with the brim of his top hat, he leaned back in his seat and drummed his fingers on the table. “Well, I suppose I can’t fault you for trying to learn. Amitie told me all about her adventure in your storybook world, so it makes sense why you would come to me.” He polished his knuckles on his chest. “I’ve got years worth of experience in the love department, darling, but if you’re asking me to teach you, then it can’t be taught.”

Rafisol’s brows knit together. Disappointment and annoyance creased her mouth into a thin line. He sounded patronizing, as if his words meant to inflict harm upon her. She wondered if she should have taken offense, but Oshare took the pitcher and poured her a second cup, commenting that she seemed parched with a seemingly well-natured grin on his bony face.

She thanked him and watched the steam rise. It wafted around her before dissipating, forgotten as quickly as it came. Rafisol raised her eyes and met Oshare’s gaze, noting that his smile had faltered, his eyes falling to the corner of the table.

“Is something the matter?” she asked.

He took off his hat and tossed it aside. To Rafisol’s bewilderment, it landed perfectly on the coat rack, spinning in place before coming to a stop. “Ah, just reminiscing, dear,” he replied, leaning back in his seat. “My beloved used to enjoy my green tea, too, all those years ago.”

“Then, that person is no longer with us,” she said, setting her cup aside. “My condolences.”

“He’s become one with the dirt as they say.” Oshare chuckled to himself, and he toyed with long, curly hair that was no longer there. “Green tea was his favorite. I’d prepare for it for him around this time, and we’d sit and chat about the happenings in Primp Town,” he added, lacing his fingers together. He looked down at her. “I suppose it was like second nature to make that kind of brew for you around this hour.”

Questions rose in her throat, but she swallowed them. She wanted to inquire more about his beloved, but the somberness on his features stilled her tongue. Taking a breath, she settled for asking, “And even though he’s gone, you still love him?”

He nodded, a chuckle puffing past his teeth. “Indeedy, dear. Missing someone is a part of loving them.” Resting his face in his hand, he directed his attention to his clothing racks. “We started our store when we were young. It was the only place to shop for fashion in Primp. Together, we lived a good, lovely life up until his very last breath.”

She frowned, wrinkling the sides of her mouth. “But he’s gone now. Why cling to loving a dead man?”

“Sweetie-” Oshare reached over and gripped her hand, smirking. “-I’m technically dead.”

Rafisol’s cheeks flushed, and she brought her hands to her lap. She supposed that made sense, but at the same time, he was avoiding her rebuttal. Scowling, she asked, “Regardless, you loved him, but he is now gone. Why continue loving him?”

Oshare hummed and rubbed his chin. He made a show of raising his leg high into the air just for the purpose of crossing it over his knee. He tapped his high cheek bone, her impatience becoming known when she narrowed her eyes at him. Eyes glinting, Oshare leaned forward and sneered, “That’s exactly why I said love cannot be taught.”

He stood up suddenly, chair rattling behind him. Rafisol leaned back, hardly deterred by his impulsivity. Whisking away, his cape fluttering with him, he hurried over to the counter where the cash register and other accessories remained under locked glass casings. He wiggled his finger over the necklaces made out of fine silver before snatching a framed photograph, the wood splintery under human hands but soft for him.

“He made me happy,” Oshare remarked, staring at the man who had once embraced him so tightly that his spine could have snapped. “Every single time I think about him or see him in my albums, I love him more and more. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, but for what happened in our lifetime?” He set the photograph back in place and wiped his palm on his jacket. Rolling his shoulders back, his bones faintly popping, he offered her a smile. “That’s love, sweetheart. It’s what can be felt, believed, seen, remembered, all that fun stuff.”

Gentleness appeared on his features. He seemed far more relaxed, his posture almost slouching. Rafisol examined him with her lips slowly parting, awe coming to her along with another question to her mind. As he approached her, Rafisol slowly rose to her feet and held her cup, meeting his gaze.

“Is it also because he was the same as you? You are a man, and I’m assuming so was your lover,” she said, Oshare chortling half-way through her question.

Oshare clapped his hands and shook from side to side, voice pitching, “Oh, my, of course! I appreciate a beautiful man, but there was none more beautiful than my lover!” An exaggerated sigh escaped him, and Rafisol watched, bewildered, as he skipped around her. “And let me tell you, he was exquisite and charming! Passionate and amorous! Everything about him lit my fire, and even now-!” He sucked down a breath and spun in front of her, setting a hand on her shoulder. “-his memory makes me feel loved.”

Rafisol hummed, her eyes wide to new possibilities. Oshare squeezed her shoulder, asking if she felt anything special towards anyone. She dipped her chin to her chest. People came to mind, replaced and renewed with each thought. She raised her head, pursing her lips as Oshare tapped her forearm.

“There’s no need to force yourself to fall in love. It comes naturally but also with a lot of hard work. It’s not a runway, you know. There will be twists and turns and stones you might trip over as you make your way down,” he explained, Rafisol nodding along.

“I...would like it to be natural.” She fiddled with the hem of her vest. “Perhaps I’ve been thinking about love too hard without allowing it to simply happen.”

“Dear, it’s fine to contemplate! But don’t let it control your thoughts.” Oshare thrust his hand out and flicked his wrist. “Go with the flow! Let your heart take the lead! Most importantly-” He flung his teacup over his shoulder, a squawking laugh leaving him as it crashed to the ground. “-be you and love as freely as you want!”

“Flow, mojo, love,” she whispered, a small smile on her face. She finished her tea, savoring the slightly cool taste. “I think I have a better understanding of love. It’s what I make of it, isn’t it?”

“Perfect analysis, sweetie. Now…” Oshare lunged around her and grabbed a rack of clothing, heaving it over. “...we have got to get you into something far more stylish! The purple is nice in the sunshine, but inside with natural light, the hue is way too dull! Let’s get you into something a little bit brighter and less plum colored!”

Chuckling as Oshare picked out a new outfit for her, Rafisol decided it would be best to let the future take its course without worrying, realizing that love would come her way just as it had for Oshare.


	4. Who You Are Meant to Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theme 4: Freedom  
> Relationship: Tee and Ecolo catch up in the former's control room, Ecolo noticing how comfortable Tee is now that he presents how he wants to. Mentioned Tee/Ringo.

Stars dotted the ebony canvas of space. White, twinkling stars representing countless opportunities flickered before Tee. In the comfort of his control room, metallic and sterile, he gazed out at distant planets appearing like colorful marbles. He made out a few rings surrounding them, and beyond them were galaxies and nebulas waiting to be traversed by the members of the SS Tetra, who were more than ready to confront whatever beings awaited them.

But right now, there was peace. It stayed with him as he flipped the page of his journal. He had started keeping a log for himself after the incident with Ex to remind himself of events which threatened to be forgotten because of the whims of space-time. He reclined in a floating, ovular armchair, the pillow comfortable behind him as he traced his fingers under the words, reciting them silently as the usual commotion echoed throughout his spaceship.

Jay and Elle seemed to be up to their old tricks. Considering Ai’s yelps and Ess’ reprimands were louder than usual, the twins must have been doing something quite aggravating. Sighing as Zed announced he was going to exemplary measures to contain them, Tee closed his journal and set on it the nearest control panel. He knew he needed to stop their fighting, but he felt tethered to his seat when he raised his gaze to the endless opportunities beyond the protective pane.

He could have been lost in space forever. Weaving through stars, twisting around planets, exploring the smallest crevices and cracks within the boundaries of dimensions, Tee wanted to immerse himself in everything. He pushed himself out of his chair and rested his hands on the control panel, fingers running over smooth buttons, the temptation to blast off to lightspeed, the destination unknown, tickling his fancy.

“Oh! Well, look where I ended up!”

A chill raced up his spine. Tee straightened and pivoted around to face the intruder. He blinked as if the creature was an apparition and would disappear when he opened his eyes. But Ecolo was certainly floating around in his control room, whipping their head from side to side as they took in every detail of the room.

“Ecolo,” Tee began, prompting the space-time traveler to glance his way, “what brings you here?”

“No reason! Popped too many Puyos and wound up here,” they said, leaning forward and gripping their nonexistent knees. They hummed, their smile remaining still on their face. They drifted around Tee, arms wrapped behind their back. Tilting their head, Ecolo cupped their cheek and leaned back when Tee sighed.

“Well, you look like you have a question. Might as well ask it,” Tee said, sitting back down. He tapped a button and rotated his chair to face Ecolo, who remained obstinately above his head.

“Your outfit is different,” Ecolo noted matter-of-factly. “When did you change it?”

“It happened between the last time you were here and now,” he remarked, his small smirk making the corners of Ecolo’s mouth twitch down.

Tee smoothed the wrinkles of the top half of his outfit. The sleek white and violet material was the same as his old jumpsuit. Letting his gaze trail lower, the end fanned out and became a dress. Tee fidgeted with the round, flowy hem that covered his knees, his regular jumpsuit underneath it as comfortable as his dress.

“It looks like something that cry baby wears,” Ecolo noted, hovering over to his side.

A wrinkle formed in Tee’s brow. “Ess is the one who designed it.”

“In that case, it looks amazing!” Ecolo flew around him and bent to Tee’s other side, a glob of drool landing on the floor. “Oh! Your hair is longer, too?”

Soft, light purple tresses tickled the sides of Tee’s jaw. His hair reached the base of his neck, neatly falling closer to his shoulders in an even bob. While he felt a few split ends against his cheeks, he was unbothered, and he raked his fingers through his hair, lightly itching his scalp and clipping loose curls behind his pointed ear.

“I was speaking with Ringo when I mentioned how I was looking for a change. This-” Tee gestured at his dress. “-is what she suggested, and she couldn’t have been anymore right.”

“Well, duh! If Ringie suggested it, then of course she’s right.” Ecolo chuckled. They tapped the side of their mouth, thick globs of drool dripping off their body and vanishing in midair. “You know, you do look...shinier?”

Tee raised an eyebrow. “Do you mean to say I’m glowing?”

Ecolo shrugged. “That’s probably how you say it, so, yeah, that’s what I mean.” They floated down and rested their elbows on Tee’s armrest. Mischief tugged the corners of their lips and melted into warm delight. “It’s a nice feeling, isn’t it? Being who you want to be.”

Sincerity lingered in their words. It was probably the first time Ecolo had said something genuine to him. Tee’s mouth quirked upwards, initially wary of any potential deception, but the twinkle in Ecolo’s eyes and the gentleness of their voice soothed his worries.

And they were correct. Tee felt whole, at ease with himself. He presented how he wanted. Investigating the vast depths of space with his crew was something he never wanted to end. Bonding with new friends across dimensions and falling in love, it was everything Tee hoped for as the leader of the SS Tetra.

“We’re seeing eye to eye on something. We must be in a space-time rift that’s influencing us to act like friends,” he jeered, Ecolo laughing.

“Maybe we’re about to hit a black hole, and it’s scrambling our neurons into being nice to each other!”

Tee smiled, his shoulders sagging. As Ecolo flew off and observed the intricacies of his control room, he crossed his legs and reached into his pocket. Removing a violet Puyo barrette given to him by Ringo, Tee slipped it through his hair and pinned part of his bangs behind his left ear, sighing as he remembered Ringo’s excitement upon seeing him wearing what made him feel free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to the mods at the puyo pals discord for organizing this event!!


End file.
